Observations
by HepburnJunkie22
Summary: Will's musings on the flight back from a routine mission..


_**So this was something I just started writing, i had no rhyme or reason, I just wrote. It started out from Ashley's point of view but somewhere along the lines it switched to Will. There is no specific time period except that it takes place after Ashley's death...so maybe somewhere in season two. All that I ask is that you be gentle, I haven't written many fics for this fandom and please enjoy if you do decide to read it! :)**_

_**PS: I do not own the characters or Sanctuary...I'm only borrowing them.**_

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I guess it would come as a surprise to most people to learn that Helen Magnus is in fact only human. Despite the increased longevity, she is for all intents and purposes a mere mortal, a brilliant one but human nonetheless. Not many people get to see her like this; so serene and vulnerable, I've only had the pleasure a few times, and only in the direst of circumstances. The times when she couldn't help but let her guard down, no matter how hard she tries to be invincible; it's a side of her that still amazes me.

She carries such a burden that I've often wondered how she deals with the stress and the pain; how she copes with such loss and disappointment. It's only now as I watch her undisturbed that I realize her self imposed seclusion is a way for her to gain her solitude...to find her sanctuary as it would seem.

I'm sitting in a seat across the aisle from her as we glide through the clouds on her private jet, always stocked and at her beck and call. Even through the chatter and excitement of a successful mission, I can see the strain on her face, the longing to be alone. I don't think that it is intentional on her part, but for how comfortable she is talking in the middle of a meeting or telling off foreign dignitaries here she seems so tense. It's only as Kate and Henry head toward the back of the plane, maybe to indulge themselves and talk shop that I see her visibly relax. I watch her chest contract while releasing a breath she was holding, almost relieved to be left to her own thoughts. It's almost as if she had completely forgotten that I was there as well.

It may be wrong of me to observe her when she thinks that she is alone, but in order for me to move I would have to disturb her and honestly her time to her self is too precious to waste. I watch as she turns her head slightly, her fist coming up slowly from the armrest to curl underneath her chin. She seems to be watching the clouds as we drift steadily through them, her normally perfect posture hunched and casual, but her eyes are staring unseeingly through the circular window.

Such a long lifetime she has lived and she has so much to show for it. A thriving network of Sanctuaries all over the world and thousands of abnormals saved thanks to her knowledge and skill in her chosen field. Bridging gaps in society and forming lasting bonds is one of Magnus' specialties; you don't get to live as long of a life as she has and not fulfill at least some of your dreams. She has transcended what had been asked of her and has built something so much more. I think back to something she said to me when this whole crazy ride started and out of everything and anything she has said to me, this is what stuck.

_Sanctuary for all is not an empty motto._

I didn't know how true that statement would come to be over the next few years or that I would have some part in helping her to keep her promise.

I can't help but imagine what her life would have been like if she had done some things differently. What if she hadn't decided to go out on a limb and throw caution to the wind? What if she hadn't been so inclined to experiment with the Source Blood or even inclined to become such a marvelous physician? What if she had never agreed to treat Montague John Druitt? Yes it seems that many thing would have been different. So many opportunities would never have come to her, but I can't help but think so many heartbreaks could have been avoided as well.

She has been closed off and quiet in the weeks since Ashley's death; I knew she was still having such a hard time, but getting Magnus to open up was easier said than done. If she had an inclination to talk about her feelings, which was rare, it would have to be on her terms; I would have to wait for her to come to me so to speak. I uncrossed and crossed my legs, willing my self to be as quiet as possible, and glanced down at my lap. There was so much I had yet to learn about Magnus, things she hadn't told me yet. I had been working for her for a while but It seemed as if I had barely scratched the surface…which I guess is to be expected with a woman that has lived multiple lifetimes.

Even though I still had so much to learn about her, when I first agreed to be a part of her team, I knew I could trust her implicitly. We are so similar that's its easy to guess why she chose me to be her successor; both wide eyed and curious, constantly thirsting for knowledge. We both have a curiosity that seemed would never be fulfilled…a need to make a difference in the long run.

I'm beginning to pick at my cuticles as I see her shift in my peripheral vision, turning towards me and waiting expectantly. Leave it to Magnus she never truly forgot I was there, scrutinizing me as much as I was her just a few moments ago. I slowly raise my eyes, meeting her bright blue ones.

For a few seconds we just stare, observing and cataloguing each other's responses and body language. Before Magnus, I'd never met anyone willing to hold eye contact with me for long; I always won the staring contest. I see her shoulders slump slightly…this might be a conversation of a more personal nature due to her relaxed posture.

Her voice is soft when she speaks, "Is something wrong Will?"

I shake my head absently, not really aware of the motion, only the emotions flitting across her face. Sadness mixed with a little anxiety is on the forefront, but just underneath I can see weariness and concern that is new to me.

"No," I finally answer, "just a little tired I guess."

She nods her head silently, glancing out the window once more before turning back to me. She rubs the back of her neck softly, willing some ache to go away.

"I feel rather tired my self," she smiles slightly, "Its been a difficult few weeks, hasn't it?"

Just like that, there is my opening…I could ask how she is doing. How is she feeling? Does she need a shoulder to cry on? Someone to just vent to? How is she really holding up?

But all those questions seem so inadequate and meaningless, insensitive in some ways. Of course she's hurting…and of course she's not ok, losing a child is deeply painful. The only thing I can compare it to is the feelings I harbored after my mom died, and if Magnus was anything like me, talking about those feelings would only make it that much more painful. Talking about it makes it real and if she isn't ready to grieve, to come to terms with this, my questions would make the situation unbearable.

She has become the woman she is today through her own efforts and triumphs; among those I am certain were some failures. Magnus will never stop being Magnus or the Head of the Sanctuary Network, not until she is long gone. To show emotion would, in her mind, perceive her as being weak…something she simply cannot let happen.

She is still staring at me, eyes locked on my own, a question lingering just behind them.

"Mangus," I start carefully, "I just want you to know that…well….I…"

She smiles at me again; this time is more genuine as if she is truly amused.

She prompts me gently, "Yes?"

I take a deep breath, "I don't claim to know what you are going through, I could never understand the loss of a child…"

As I say the last few words I see her flinch slightly, the smile slip from its place just so.

"But," I continue quickly, "I know when a friend is in need…just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

As I end the sentence I see that the smile has completely fallen from her face and in its place is a blank stare. Her eyes are no longer connected to mine; instead they are fascinated with mundane carpet covering the floor. Sensing the growing tension I scrub my hand over my face, and think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I startle slightly as I feel her hand rest gently on my shoulder, my skin warming slightly.

"Thank you Will," she whispers, punctuating each word with a gentle squeeze.

She lets go and I stare as she walks to the rear of the jet, probably going for some tea to calm her nerves. I wince at the retreat, ashamed to have made her feel the need to flee; but as I glance at the clouds lofting and looming outside the window opposite of me, I think that maybe I did the right thing after all.


End file.
